


Fighting Fish

by bar2d2s



Category: The Flash (Comics)
Genre: Abuse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-12
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-30 05:12:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3924145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bar2d2s/pseuds/bar2d2s
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[imported from my Tumblr circa 2013]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting Fish

He licks his lips and smiles with his teeth, and it takes Len all of a minute to realize that Axel is bleeding. He’s bleeding from the mouth and temple, where Digger had belted him across the face with his fist, and clipped him with a boomerang when he tried to run.

The Rogues fought all the time, it wasn’t unusual. Len would have one too many and kick Mick in the stomach, Sam would catch Marco eyeing Lisa and blacken that with which he looked, Axel would say…anything, and they’d take turns throwing things at him. But this was different. The look in Digger’s eyes was just, off. 

“Cool it.” He said through gritted teeth, grabbing Digger by the shoulder when he drew back his arm again. The taller man shrugged him off, glaring.

“No one bleedin’ asked yeh, Cold.” Axel tries to make a slow break for it, and Digger’s arm shoots forward, snagging him around the throat. Axel choked, and went still. “Just a lover’s spat. You’ll have a Rogue when th’ day’s out.”

“Not good enough.” Len replied, fisting the back of Digger’s jacket. His grip got tighter the longer the Aussie squeezed Axel. “I want two.”

Axel is looking at him with pleading eyes, begging him to do something. Anything. He was their boss, their leader. His mouth opens, lips cracked and dry beneath the steady stream of blood flowing from where Digger’s fist and his own teeth did a number on them.

“Help.”

That was one thing he’d admired about the kid, one of the reasons he’d let him stick around. Axel had his shit together, for the most part. He’d mess up from time to time, but he was still a good Rogue. He’d earned Len’s loyalty, just as Len had earned his. The little shit was family now, and Len wasn’t about to let some asshole lay hands on  _his_  kid.

His gun was at Digger’s brow before either man had the chance to react. “You have one chance to drop him and get the fuck out of here, then I start shooting.” Len tells Digger, pressing the barrel of his gun into the redhead’s stupid hat. Surprisingly, Digger complies.

“Where th’ fack’m I supposed to go, Lenny?” He all but yells, his flailing hand coming flinchingly close to Axel’s face again. “Since th’ beginning, I been here. An’ now yer tellin’ me to leave?” Only once Axel has inched away, all but cowering behind Len, does the eldest Rogue decide to speak.

“You stopped being useful the moment you got a bug up your ass to kill one of my Rogues. You’re not family anymore, George. I don’t care what you do, just don’t let me catch you around here again.”

For a moment, it seemed like the wellspring of unexplained rage Digger had tapped into would be turned on Len, but the prospect of a fair opponent dimmed his enthusiasm, and he wilted.

“Ax.” Len felt his youngest shiver behind him. “Yer not _really_  gonna let him just toss me, are ye?” Digger’s voice was softer, as though he was trying to coax Axel out of his hiding place. Len bristled when he heard Axel begin to move, but soon unclenched. The boy was moving away, towards the safety of the group.

“Get outta here, Dig.” He said quietly, but still loud enough to be heard. “You’re not a Rogue anymore. You’re nothing. You’re nothing to _me_.” He clarified, and Digger’s face hardened.

“Fack ye, yeh bodgy slut.” Axel winced. “Hope Flash cans the lot of ye!” He stormed out with nothing but his boomerangs and the clothes on his back, slamming the door. At the card table, Marco’s eyes flashed and, as a final insult, it began to rain.

Dodging pitying looks from the men and meaningless words from Lisa, Axel scoots into the bathroom to mop himself up. His lip has merely a cut, but the gash on his forehead needs stitches, and Axel’s always been squeamish. “Len?” He asks, sticking his face out into the main room. Len obliges him, knowing what he needs.

Because it’s more than just a steady hand and a brave exterior. Axel needs a body to lean on, a shoulder to hide his tears in, an ear to listen.

“I really loved that bastard.” He admits while Len sticks gauze over his stitches, the water on his face only half-ignored. “But I guess I knew he’d just use me until there was nothing left. Glad I got out when I did.” His laugh is weak, half-hearted, but his hand on Len’s wrist is strong. “This is the part where a good dad would say that there are plenty of other fish in the sea.” Len jerks.

“I’m not your fucking father.” His words are harsh, and Axel shrinks back. “But…you’re better than him. You deserve better than him. And you’ll get it, someday.” Axel’s laugh is real now, his hand moving up Len’s arm to squeeze his shoulder before backing off.

“You’re the worst at pep talks. Thanks.” Len’s smile is faint, but there.

“Any time.”


End file.
